Jocelyn shook her head.
"You weren't just confused for a moment—you planned this all along! How could I let you go after you caused the deaths of so many Shadowhunters?"
Jocelyn reached into her pocket, only to realize her gun was gone.
At that moment, Clary handed her Roy's Smith & Wesson M629.
As soon as Jocelyn touched the M629, something felt off. She could sense a soul lingering within the gun.
"Clary, where did this gun come from?"
"Roy gave it to me."
If Roy gave it to her, then it should be fine.
Jocelyn pressed the barrel of the M629 against Hodge's head.
"Hodge Starkweather, any last words?"
Hodge put on a fawning expression.
"Jocelyn, spare me! For the sake of the battles we fought side by side, let me go! I'll give you all the money—tens of millions of dollars I siphoned from the Shadowhunters over the years, plus the hundred million from Valentine. It's all yours!"
Roy, listening nearby, couldn't help but feel a pang of pity for the Shadowhunters. Their entire organization had only a few tens of millions in funding? Compared to groups like the Cabin, which could throw around billions for secret bases, or even criminal organizations like the Dark Web, the Shadowhunters were practically broke.
Were most Shadowhunters just working for the love of it?
"You bastard! How can you face the Shadowhunters who quietly sacrificed their lives to protect humanity, or those who gave everything for their ideals?"
From the sound of it, were Shadowhunters really working for free out of passion?
Maybe even footing their own bills!
That's more noble than some struggling author!
Under Jocelyn's accusations, Hodge looked a bit embarrassed but showed no signs of remorse.
"It seems you're beyond saving. Repent in hell!"
"Wait! I—"
Bang!
Hodge tried to speak, but Jocelyn had already pulled the trigger. The back of his head exploded.
After taking down Hodge, Jocelyn collapsed to the ground, startling Clary.
"Mom, what's wrong?"
"I'm fine, just… exhausted."
Clary carefully helped Jocelyn to her feet.
Roy searched Hodge's body and found a strange USB drive in his pocket.
Jocelyn suddenly turned to Roy and spoke.
"Mr. Black, can I ask you for a favor?"
"Go ahead."
"With Hodge dead, the Shadowhunters have no leader. Could you take over the organization?"
Roy raised an eyebrow, a bit speechless.
If the Shadowhunters were easy to lead, Hodge wouldn't have betrayed them in the first place.
From the conversation between Jocelyn and Hodge, Roy could piece it together.
The Shadowhunters were a group of idealists dedicated to fighting dark creatures and protecting humanity—a team that's notoriously hard to manage.
And then there was the funding issue. While Hodge might have exaggerated, the Shadowhunters were likely bankrupt, probably left with just some real estate.
If Roy took over, he'd probably have to pay out of his own pocket. He wasn't noble enough to bankroll someone else's cause—after all, he had a big family to support.
He needed an excuse to dodge this. Then he remembered something Saltana had mentioned.
"Ms. Fray, why not have the Shadowhunters join the FEA? With the federal government, you wouldn't have to worry about funding or logistics."
It wasn't unprecedented—take the famous Pinkerton Detective Agency, for example.
Jocelyn shook her head helplessly.
"Many Shadowhunters are too used to their freedom, and the FEA… it's not exactly pure."
That was true. The primary goal of any federal agency was maintaining social order, so FEA agents sometimes cooperated to a limited extent with more "well-behaved" dark creatures, like the vampire Alcina Dimitrescu.
But Shadowhunters wouldn't do that. They refused to work with dark creatures, even if those creatures showed goodwill.
Roy was even more dumbfounded. These Shadowhunters were both broke and stubborn—classic idealists.
That made him even less interested in taking over. He didn't have time to babysit them.
Thinking it over, Jocelyn probably wanted him to lead because of his eight-winged angel status. So why not find someone with even more wings?
"Ms. Fray, I have a better candidate to lead the Shadowhunters. I'm sure you'll be pleased with her."
Jocelyn frowned slightly.
"Who?"
"You'll meet her soon enough. For now, let's get out of here—I've already called for pickup."
In the distance, a helicopter with the FEAR logo sped toward them along the highway.
---
Meanwhile, Valentine, carrying Abigail, arrived at an abandoned building in the California mountains.
This place was once a small military fortress from the American Civil War, abandoned after the conflict ended.
Valentine had stumbled upon it by chance and turned it into his safe house.
The above-ground part of the fortress had collapsed, but the underground space was vast, perfect for storing supplies and shielding from wind and sun—ideal for a vampire to hide.
When Valentine found the place, some Mexican drug traffickers were using it, so he graciously "thanked nature's bounty" by draining their blood.
As soon as he landed, Valentine collapsed, rolling on the ground in agony, his body contorting like an addict in withdrawal.
"Father, are you okay?" Abigail rushed to his side, checking on him.
"Blood… I need fresh blood!"
Earlier, to dodge Roy's thrown Leviathan Axe, Valentine had used his ability to transform into a swarm of bats, splitting himself into countless fragments. As long as some bats survived, his body could endure.
But he hadn't expected Roy's strength to be so overwhelming. One swing of the axe took out half his bats, and those lost fragments drained his life force.
By then, Valentine was barely able to fight, holding on through sheer will until he reached the safe house, where his weakness finally showed.
Abigail looked around. In this remote wilderness, there wasn't a single person or even a wild animal in sight.
With no other choice, she extended her wrist to Valentine.
"Father, drink my blood for now!"
Valentine grabbed Abigail's slender arm and bit down. The young werewolf's face visibly paled.
A minute later, Valentine let go. He still looked weak, but much better than the addict-like state from before.
"Abigail, I'm doing much better."
"Father, your blood addiction seems to be getting worse!"
"Yes, that's why I have to find the Holy Grail!"
Blood addiction was a strange disease that had emerged among vampires in the last century. As fresh human blood became scarcer, some vampires turned to a "vegetarian" diet, relying on blood bags or animal blood to sustain themselves.
But soon, these vegetarian vampires began developing blood addiction. The condition manifested as an ever-growing need for blood plasma.
At first, one blood bag a day was enough. Then it became two, three, four, five…
Clean, hygienic blood plasma wasn't cheap. Most vegetarian vampires couldn't afford legitimate supplies and turned to the black market's low-quality plasma.
The quality of that plasma? Just look up the tainted blood scandal in Britain.
As a result, more and more low-tier vampires went hungry, triggering outbreaks of blood addiction.
When the addiction kicked in, vampires like Valentine lost their rationality, turning into blood-craving zombies that attacked living humans without restraint, often draining their victims completely. This had caused numerous bloodbaths in Europe.
Abigail looked worried.
"But we're no match for that angel!"
Valentine fell silent.
Indeed, as long as Roy was protecting Clary and Jocelyn, Valentine had no chance.
"It seems we need to lure him away and prepare some backup plans."
"Father, what's your plan?"
"I'm going to awaken the Third Generation vampires. It's a matter of life and death for our kind. If we don't act, vampires will become nothing more than human puppets!"
For an old-school, prideful vampire like Valentine, this was unacceptable. He could tolerate humans as equals, but never as masters.
"But once the Third Generation awakens, they'll need massive amounts of fresh blood. Where will we get it?"
Valentine narrowed his eyes.
"That's a question for our old friend Henry."
---
In a luxurious penthouse in Manhattan, New York, a gray-haired middle-aged man was furiously smashing furniture to vent his anger.
Hearing the commotion, a young girl walked out of a room, her face expressionless as she asked, "Father, what's going on?"
Henry turned to the girl, his face twisted with rage.
"It's the Council of Elders! They've given me another order—to deal with Roy Black!"
At the mention of that name, a subtle change flickered across the girl's face, but Henry, caught up in his anger, didn't notice.
"Roy Black? The one who's destroyed Dark Web bases multiple times?"
"That's him! Not only is he terrifyingly powerful, but even the Council can't touch him. He's got deep ties with the authorities too. They're trying to ruin me! I've poured so much into building the Dark Web to what it is today. Can't those damn vampires show me some consideration?"
Clearly, Henry had realized that following the Council's orders would lead to the Dark Web's destruction, given the federal government's current stance on supernatural incidents. No amount of protection would save them.
But disobeying would be just as bad—the Council wouldn't let him off. It was a choice between saving his life's work or his own skin.
The answer was obvious.
"What exactly did the Council say?"
"Valentine wants me to distract Roy Black. Does he think that's so easy?"
"Father, I have an idea. Why not invite Roy Black's family to play my newly designed game?"
Henry froze.
"You mean that game? But it hasn't been tested yet!"
"It needs testing eventually. Why not test it on Roy Black?"
Henry's eyes flickered as he looked at his daughter.
"Claire, you're right, but if we do this, there's no turning back."
The girl, sharing the name of a certain psychiatrist (played by Isabelle Fuhrman, the actress from Orphan, now grown up), gave a cold smile.
"Father, our family ran out of options the moment you created the Dark Web."
Her words silenced Henry.
"You're right. We've had no way out for a long time. This time, we fight with our backs to the wall. I'll mobilize all of the Dark Web's forces and oversee the test myself. As for what comes next…"
Henry trailed off, shaking his head, but Claire seemed optimistic.
"Father, as long as we're alive, we can rebuild the Dark Web!"
Her encouragement reignited Henry's resolve, but then he frowned again.
"I almost forgot—the Council also wants me to provide 1,300 healthy adults in a short time. Damn it, where am I supposed to find that many people?"
Obviously, the Council wasn't asking for 1,300 adults to work in a factory. Their fate was easy to guess.
No matter the country, 1,000 people disappearing in a short time would be a major incident. Even with the Dark Web's influence, they couldn't pull it off openly.
Claire spoke up again.
"It's simple. Hundreds of migrants cross the U.S.-Mexico border every day. We can bribe the border police and abduct those migrants under the pretense of offering jobs. We could meet the Council's demands in a few days."
Henry's eyes lit up.
It was only the year 2000, but the migrant issue at the U.S.-Mexico border was already severe.
Back then, due to different social attitudes, migrants were seen as despised nuisances. No American cared about their plight—not even the federal government, which treated them like roaches.
Who could've imagined that twenty years later, migrants would be housed in hotels and given RVs?
"No, offering jobs won't work. Not all migrants are fools. Let's use charity as the cover. The border's not far from California. We just need to deliver the people to the Council. What they do with them is their business."
In a few words, the father and daughter sealed the fate of over a thousand people.
From their conversation, it was clear that Claire was the real mastermind, while Henry handled the execution.
"I'll head to Texas now. Claire, come with me. New York won't be safe for a while."
Claire nodded.
"Father, I'll follow your lead."
This section is adapted from Escape Room 2.